Page 98 of Until the Ribbon Breaks

I know better than to believe him because I’m far from special. They probably train the staff to say crap like that to build us up, but I go ahead and give him a meek, “Thank you,” before going outside.

I make my way over to the group just as Jeremy tips over, unable to hold his tree position. I jump out of the way to avoid him taking me down too.

“You okay, Jeremy?”

Some new kid shushes me, and I shoot him a scowl before reaching down to help Jeremy to his feet.

“Thanks,” he whispers before I step over to where Max is balancing on one leg with her hands pressed together.

I hate yoga, but we’re forced to do it every week. It’s a less than calming exercise for those of us who are coordinately challenged.

Kicking off my shoes, I stand next to her as the instructor leads us into the downward dog position.

It’s one I can actually do successfully.

“How was your session?” Max asks on a hushed voice.

“For once, it went well.” I look over at her from under my arm. “I get to go home at the end of the week.”

“You’re leaving?”

I nod, expecting her to be as happy as she is for everyone else when they get released, but her eyes slip from mine and her lips tug into a frown.

“Max?”

“I’m happy for you.” Her tone is sullen and far from happy.

“What’s wrong?”

When we swoop into the upward facing dog pose, she stays quiet, avoiding my question.

I drop down to my knees and tap her arm. “Hey, I thought you’d be happy.”

“I am.”

“You’re not.”

Lowering to her knees as well, she sags her shoulders.

“Talk to me, Max.”

“I don’t want you to go.”

“You’ll be out of here soon enough.” My words are meant to be encouraging, but they fail.

“You’re the only friend I have left in here.” Her eyes finally lift to mine. “We aren’t going to talk when you leave, are we?”

“Max ...”

“It’s cool,” she resigns as she hangs her head.

I could lie and get her hopes up that we’ll hang out and go to the movies together, but I don’t want to fill her head with false hope, so I gently lead her to the truth. “I live in Edmonds and you live in Everett.”

She nods but keeps her head down.

I feel bad, so I toss her a bone. “You’re on social media, right?”

“Yeah.”

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